


Arsonist's Lullabye

by astrawberryoctopus



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, retired overwatch agents, sometimes you dont need words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-11 20:28:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15323664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrawberryoctopus/pseuds/astrawberryoctopus
Summary: Eventually the humming stops and Hanzo realizes he’s been slowly falling asleep. He’s not sure when it happens but he startles awake when McCree whispers into the air. “Am I a terrible person?”





	Arsonist's Lullabye

**Author's Note:**

> Giving this writing mchanzo another try. Short and sweet this time.
> 
> Spiritual successor to [Bury Me Face Down](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13978716)

Hanzo finds McCree in the balcony outside after waking up to the empty coldness beside him. When he finally sees him he sees how his hands are laced together, his thumb scratching his nails absently, an unlit cigar loosely between this lips. He looks lost somewhere beyond the city he appears to be staring at. Slowly Hanzo opens the door, closes it and stands beside him in silence.

Two minutes of silence passes without McCree acknowledging his presence but he pays no mind to it and Hanzo waits. Five minute pass and Hanzo wonders briefly if McCree just wanted to be alone after all and his presence was unwelcome. Six and he makes for the door before he's stopped by a hand and a barely audible _don’t go_. He turns and leans against the rail besides the other, shoulders touching. The hand that was scratching at his nails eventually moves up to his hand and laces their hand together.

They watch the night pass in the city. There's barely life in it, a few cars driving by is the only light source in between the hotel and apartment buildings that surround the area. It’s not much of a view but the air is nice and cold in their face. Eventually McCree lights the cigarette that’s been in his lips, slipping his hand away from Hanzo’s to hold it instead.

What feels like hours pass without any talk. The lack of sleep is starting to weight heavy on Hanzo, his brain too foggy to try to come up w any conversation that isn't the obvious. He finds himself wishing he could go back to sleep in the warm covers of their bed.

“You don't have to stay”. McCree eventually says, there's a soft laugh to his words and Hanzo wonders if he was speaking out loud just now. or if McCree just knows his that well. He really is tired and at his older age he can no longer afford lack of sleep like their time in Overwatch.

“I want to.” He replies, and its true or at least true enough.

McCree smiles and leads Hanzo by the hand to the small loveseat that they kept in their balcony and wraps his arm around Hanzo, slowly leading his head to his shoulder. “Sleep.”

Before he can protest McCree is wrapping his serape around them for cover and he’s humming some song Hanzo recognizes but not enough to name it. He doesn't fight it, instead he welcomes the warmness that McCree radiates.

Eventually the humming stops and Hanzo realizes he's been slowly falling asleep. He's not sure when it happens but he startles awake when McCree whispers into the air. “Am I a terrible person?”

Hanzo's hand finds McCree's waist despite the awkward position and he pulls him closer. He wills his brain to work but now his brain is foggy with sleep and he can't think of anything helpful to say. He wonders if McCree wants comfort or is simply speaking out loud. Few times Hanzo doesn't know what to do and yet he feels completely helpless in that moment.

“No.” He says eventually, sitting up again and turning to see McCree in the eyes. “You're a _good_ man Jesse. You hear? You…” he trails off trying to search for something to describe McCree but not a single word makes him justice. “You're stubborn and, and you’re so loud, all the time and somehow that hideous sense of fashion is still the same even now.”  McCree laughs at that but doesn't argue like he always does that its unique which makes it all the better.

“You're the embodiment of warmth,” he continues before McCree can protest, “and home and safety.”  He hesitates for a second because he'd said this a million times to him and he worries for a moment that the words hold no meaning after all its use. “ _Jesse_.” he breathes. “You're the most thoughtful, friendly, most compassionate person I've ever known. Your past doesn't define you. You've grown, you've done better than when you were young.”

“Yeah.” McCree says flatly. It sounds to Hanzo like he'd not said enough nor the right things.

Instead he turns toward McCree so he's facing him and pulls him into hug so tight it almost hurts. McCree’s faces rest by his neck perfectly like the other had done for him before. There's a moment of confusion before Hanzo feels McCree holding him just as tight. It’s silent again but this time it doesn't feel suffocating like before, there's no more expectations of talk. Holding each other is enough for now if the tightness around him is any indication.

Some tears fall. Hanzo's not surprise, knowing that McCree's nightmares must had been from his days in Deadlock before he’d started using the name Jesse McCree for that question to come out out loud. Though he's not sure exactly which dream  nor how bad it was. He'd told him some over drinks with an almost slur but not enough to call him drunk but he also knows McCree had kept some to himself. It doesn't bother him, he understands from experience.

The tears dont last long this time but the tightness of the hug remains constant and Hanzo knows better than to be the one to pull away first. So he holds him and hope it's still helpful in a meaningful way. 

“You want to talk about it?” he asks in a whisper. If anything so he doesn't have to face it all alone in his mind. If anything because perhaps despite it all he would want to talk this time.

‘I just...” McCree says after a long pause and even after it he can hear the uneven inflection. “No,” he ends up saying after the silence prologues.

“Okay.”

He wishes he could do more but words seem meaningless and empty that night so he keeps them to himself. Instead, he pulls a hand out of the embrace to start doing circles in McCree’s back, humming one of McCree’s song he’d learned in what feels to be another lifetime when they were still active agents. It takes a few minutes for McCree to relax to the movements and sound but eventually he can feel the tightness set in his shoulder dissipate.

“How have you not left me yet”. It's a whisper but he hears it all the same above his own humming. 

It hurts to hear it, it always does when the words surface again. Hanzo hugs him tighter, wishing he could convince him truly once and for all that he will never leave him but he knows it doesn't work like that.

“I'm never leaving you hon. Ever,” he says pulling out of the hug so he can hold his face and make eye contact. It doesn't look like he's convinced despite the intensity he adds to the words. “No matter what, I promise you.”

“Okay.” He says simply. At least he sounds hopeful and Hanzo wants to believe he at least wants to believe it. He wants to believe that he trust him enough to know that he will keep his promise, like he’d always done. “I hear ya.”  

Eventually McCree pulls him back into the hug, laying his head in Hanzo’s shoulder. Hanzo resumes the humming and the circles on his back. 

“I love you, Hanzo Shimada. I swear on my mama’s grave I do.”

“Me too, Jesse McCree.” Hanzo replies. “I’ll always love you.”


End file.
